


White Shores Are Calling (You and I Will Meet Again)

by mywrittensins



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Flashbacks, Fluff, M/M, Mentions of Smut, Past Character Death, Reunions, courting, erestor is a secret romantic, glorfindel is all too happy to indulge him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 16:00:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18253139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mywrittensins/pseuds/mywrittensins
Summary: Erestor has been waiting for this day for so many years, he’s not sure he can believe it has finally come.





	White Shores Are Calling (You and I Will Meet Again)

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta-ed  
> This has been sitting in my drafts for months now, and I’ve been having major nostalgia lately so I decided to go back and fix it up because I’m a sucker for reunion fics  
> Title is from Into The West by Annie Lennox

_Golden light cast itself through the window and over the bed, alighting his lover's face with a soft glow. Erestor slept soundly, dark hair spread over the pillow and lashes shadowed against his cheeks. Glorfindel resisted the urge to brush his thumb against a soft cheek, not wanting to wake the sleeping beauty._

_A bird sang outside and Erestor shied away from the sound, closer to Glorfindel. He curled against the blonde's chest and made a soft sound of content, and Glorfindel could not resist gently brushing dark hair away from Erestor's cheek. He ran his thumb lightly down the curve of his lover's ear, reveling in the soft look on his face._

_It was not often they got to enjoy a quiet morning like this. Too often were they torn apart by patrols and studies, and Glorfindel rarely got to see Erestor so at peace._

_This morning, however, he would not let anything interrupt them._

_Glorfindel sat back to give Erestor a moment's more peace. Then, when he deemed the moment right, he gently cupped Erestor's cheek and leaned down, pressing their lips together. It was a sweet and chaste kiss, and Erestor's lashes fluttered open as Glorfindel began to pull away._

_He blinked, gazing sleepily up at Glorfindel before his eyes cleared and he smiled and stretched, pulling himself closer to the other._

_"Good morning," he murmured, a small smile gracing his lips. His eyes flickered over Glorfindel's features, taking them in eagerly before he leaned in, pressing their lips together once more. He ran his hand up Glorfindel's chest, then cupped his jaw as they kissed at one another, tongues teasing and sweet. They both sighed in bliss._

_"Good morning, my love," Glorfindel breathed as he pulled away, beaming. Erestor snuggled closer to his chest with a content hum._

_"I can not remember the last morning I was allowed to sleep in," he mused softly, deeming it still too early to speak above a quiet murmur. "I fear the moment Ecthelion comes knocking and demands I leave for patrol."_

_Glorfindel chuckled and gently stroked his cheek. "No one will steal you from my side today," he promised, brushing Erestor's cheek with the back of his knuckles. The ring on his finger glinted in the sun and Erestor's breath caught. He reached up, gently taking Glorfindel's hand._

_"Part of me can still not believe it is real," he admitted. His fingers touched Glorfindel's ring reverently, its twin snug on his own finger. Glorfindel beamed and laced their fingers together before leaning down to kiss his husband._

_"Believe it, my love," he breathed against Erestor's lips. "We are wedded and our fëa have bonded and at last you are mine."_

_Erestor smiled and dove in to kiss him deeper and deeper, tongues brushing and exploring one another's mouths. As the kiss grew heated, Erestor slowly pushed Glorfindel onto his back and moved to straddle him, hands wandering down the golden warrior's chest. Glorfindel hummed in content, his hands gripping Erestor's hips gently and pressing their bodies together, still naked from the night before._

_Soft beams of light filtered through the window, casting the two in a soft glow as they joined, body and fëa melting together in the morning's passion._

 

* * *

  

Elves watched Erestor with pity in their eyes as the elf hurried through the hallways. It had been a long time coming and Erestor had fought it valiantly, but with the impending war and the cold of winter, it seemed evident to all that Erestor's fëa had finally begun to let go. 

But Erestor himself did not notice the stares. He knew of, but did not concern himself with the fading of his soul, the grayness of the skin, the exhaustion in his eyes, nor the cold seeping through the thickest robes money could buy. He did not acknowledge the ever-present ache in his heart. 

What he did acknowledge, however, was that it was nearly noon, and he was going to be late.

As he finally reached the council room, he hurried to fix himself and slip inside, tiptoeing to his seat. The meeting had already started and there was nothing more than a mere pause to see who had arrived before one of the councilors was speaking again. Erestor felt Elrond place a gentle hand on the crook of his elbow as he lowered himself into his seat but he brushed it off, giving the half-elf what he hoped to be a reassuring smile. He turned to the King next, giving him an apologetic bow of his head, but Gil-Galad merely nodded before turning back to the speaker. Erestor let out a soft breath when the attention had turned away from him and took a moment to recover. 

He was getting too old for all of this running around. 

Only a month into winter and Erestor already knew it was going to be the coldest one yet. Orcs pressed at their borders and snow fell by the bucketload. Erestor's fingers felt numb even tucked into his sleeves. It would be nice to settle down for a moment, he thought, to curl up in front of the fire with some hot tea and a book and all the furs in the hall, the way he used to do when he had more free time back in Gondolin. 

He remembers the winters back home. They too had been cold and long, but he could not ever remember feeling so... frozen. 

Logic would remind him that Gondolin had been further south and thus had shorter winters and longer summers, but his heart would tell him otherwise. The winter had not felt nearly as cold when he had spent it in the arms of his golden warrior, cuddled under thick furs and wool, basking in one another's love by the heat of the fire. 

The rings against his chest burned as he sunk deeper into his thoughts, and it was not until Elrond gently shook his arm that he realized the King had addressed him and was awaiting an answer. 

He looked up sharply, embarrassment flushed on his cheeks. "Pardon me, my King-" he stuttered out. Gil-Galad sighed and held his hand up to stop him, and Erestor's cheeks burned further. 

"A raven was sent to me this morning from Lord Círdan. A ship has arrived in Mithlond, from Aman. The passenger is of great importance, and has requested audience with me immediately. Were I not occupied with reparations here, I might consider returning to Mithlond. As it is, however, we are not set to return for another three winters. Lord Círdan has proposed we send an escort to Mithlond to bring the passenger here." He spoke directly to Erestor. Evidently, this had all been said when he had not been paying attention, but Erestor pushed the feelings of guilt away and tried to focus on what Gil-Galad was telling him instead. 

His brow furrowed. "A ship? From Aman? But none have come from the Undying lands in years." 

"One has now." Gil-Galad addressed all the councilors now, and Erestor saw the subtle lean forward of interest at what would come next. "I have been informed that Lord Glorfindel of Gondolin has been returned to Middle-Earth." 

...

At first, Erestor assumed he had misheard him. 

What a cruel trick the Valar were playing on him, to make him belief, if even for a minute, that his love had returned. Hope rose in his chest for a split moment before it fell again, crushed by the reality that Erestor reluctantly clung to.

Cruel, indeed. 

But then the other lords and captains  and counselors started whispering hushed excitement at the prospect of  _Glorfindel, The Balrog-Slayer, The Lord of The House of The Golden Flower,_ returning to Endórë, and Erestor realized with a sickening sense of foreboding that he had heard Gil-Galad perfectly clear. 

And in that moment Erestor felt two very strong, very conflicting urges. A curse bubbled up on the tip of his tongue, vile and cruel as tears welled in his eyes and bile rose in his throat, and he suddenly could not decide if he wanted to cry or pass out or both. 

He did neither. Instead he sat, eyes fixed on the table in front of him, sleeve covering his mouth as if to hold back some reaction. 

Surely it was not possible. It was rare an elf was returned from the halls of waiting so soon, unheard of for them to leave Aman after being reborn. Surely, Lord Círdan had been mistaken. Perhaps Gil-Galad had read the letter incorrectly. 

He was not given any more time to ponder. 

"I entertained, briefly, the idea of fulfilling Lord Círdan's request to send an escort. But the blizzard is providing less than manageable conditions, and I worry about the orc attacks in Ered Luin. Lord Círdan notes that Lord Glorfindel has come with important information from the Valar and has requested counsel with me immediately, but I am afraid we may be stretched too thin for a journey of that kind," The King finished and sat back, gesturing for others to speak. 

Immediately, talk broke out. There was a sudden flurry of voices as the council discussed the logistics and possibility and wonder at the King's announcement. Across the table, Erestor's gaze met Gil-Galad's, and then in a sudden burst of energy, his sleeve fell away from his lips. 

"If you would allow it, my King-" his voice cracked as the room fell silent, all eyes on him. "-I would go to Mithlond and escort the Lord Glorfindel here. I know the way well, and Asfaloth is swift. We would make the journey in half the time it would take a full escort, with half the resources." There was the hint of a smile on Gil-Galad's lips, but it was gone before anyone else saw it. 

The room was silent as the King studied him. Erestor found himself sitting up straighter, spine protesting but yielding to his determination. This journey was his to make. 

"Very well then." 

"My lord!" A gasp from beside Erestor drowned out any momentary victory at the King's acquiescence. All eyes turned to Elrond, who at least had the decency to look a little sheepish at his outburst. Still, his expression was set, eyes hard and determined as he looked at Gil-Galad. "My lord, surely you cannot be serious?" 

The King raised one eyebrow at the half-elf's outburst, but Erestor beat him to any response. 

"Elrond," he asked in an ill-disguised whisper. "What are you doing?" 

"Erestor, there are orcs out there. It is winter, and you are not well, you should not-" 

"Not well?" Erestor stood, fury and worry rumbling in his gut. He thought he had been hiding it well. Briefly, he wondered how many others had begun to see the signs. "I am fine," he lied. 

"No you are not, my friend," Elrond insisted.

"I assure you-" 

"Erestor, you are fading!" The peredhel snapped. Lord Rinion gasped from Erestor's right, and the fury outweighed the worry in his gut.

"Keep your tongue behind your teeth on matters that do not concern you," he hissed, glaring at him, and Elrond returned his look with one of frustration, but Erestor did not back down.

He would not let Elrond take this away from him. 

"Erestor, my dearest friend, have you been dishonest with yourself for so long that now everyone may see the truth but you? You have begun to fade and I cannot allow you to put yourself at risk-"

"You do not command me!" Erestor snapped, eyes livid and hands shaking in fists by his sides. The council was silent, every eye wide with shock. 

Elrond gave the King a pleading look. "Gil, please, you-" 

"Enough, Elrond." Gil-Galad stood, eyes stoney, and everyone in the room cowed. "Erestor, you may go to Mithlond." Erestor let out a soft sigh, insides expanding with relief, and he sunk back into his chair, suddenly feeling exhausted.

His relief was short-lived. 

"Ereinion-!" 

The King fixed Elrond with a sharp glare. "You will go with him, Elrond. Now, if this matter has been dealt with, let us continue with business," He said firmly, ignoring both Elrond and Erestor's stuttered protests. "Linnedir, a report on the northern border, if you will." 

Oh, Valar. Erestor was so screwed. 

 

* * *

 

Erestor hugged his robes close to his body as he hurried through the halls towards the High King's office. He had to speak to him, urgently, before Elrond made preparations to travel. 

There was no way Erestor was going to allow Elrond to come, the Valar help him. Elrond was his dearest friend. He trusted no one with his life more than the peredhel. Elrond knew the lands well and Erestor better. He would have been the perfect companion. 

But if this passenger truly was Glorfindel, Erestor had plans to meet him alone. And worse– if it was not his love, he would need time alone to recover and bury his aching heart once more. 

Erestor steeled himself against the cold wind and the stony facade of the King he would surely face, and knocked on the door. It was late at night and Erestor could feel the exhaustion seeping into his bones, but he forced himself to keep strong, knowing he needed to show that he was capable of making the journey alone. As Gil-Galad opened the door, he quickly dipped into a bow.  

"Erestor- I was not expecting you at this hour. Should you not be preparing for your travels?" He stepped aside anyway, letting Erestor inside. 

"Pardon me, my King. I wish to speak with you on the matter," Erestor said, stepping inside and relaxing at the heat from the fireplace. When Gil-Galad had closed the door, Erestor took a deep breath and turned to meet his gaze. "I wish to go alone." 

The King stared for a moment, crossing his arms. "You wish to travel to Mithlond alone?" 

Erestor nodded in confirmation. "I do not believe it necessary to send both Elrond and I. These are difficult times, I am sure you would not enjoy being parted from him for long, and as you said, we are stretched thin. I have made the journey before, I can make it again without aid," Erestor said confidently. 

Gil-Galad watched him for a moment before turning to face the fire. "There are orcs pressing on our borders every day, Erestor. I will not have you go alone." 

"My lord, I am not a mere messenger. I can take care of myself." Erestor's voice took on a tinge of desperation, but the High King was quick to cut him off. 

"While I am confident that you can take care of yourself, Erestor, I also know you have not taken up a sword in nearly 2,000 years, and I do not know what state our guest may be in. You are taking Elrond with you," he said, turning to face him once more, his eyes stern. "And that is my final decision." 

Backed into a corner, throat closing up in panic, Erestor forced himself to take a deep breath. He greatly did not want Elrond to accompany him. He was not sure if he would be able to handle it if he did.

"Please... my lord-" He begged, and Gil-Galad's eyes narrowed in scrutiny. 

"Is there any reason, save perhaps pride, for which you so desperately wish to go alone, Erestor?" The King asked, his voice stern yet not unkind. 

Erestor looked away, hands wringing anxiously and there was a silence as he struggled to get the words out. In all his years, he had never told anyone of his husband. Those that knew, simply knew. And those that did not, well, there were rumors of a love of Erestor's, lost in the fall of the Golden City, but few knew their identity. 

Glorfindel had been Erestor's secret, too painful to speak of. 

He knew, of course, that should he ride to Mithlond and find the love of his life, the news would spread. The rumors would be confirmed and his secret would come out.

But if not, if his love was not the one waiting for him across the mountains–

To go through the loss once more would be painful. 

To do it in front of others – unbearable. 

Evidently, Erestor had been silent for too long. Gil-Galad turned and picked up a letter from his desk. "Erestor. I will not hide that I had hoped you would volunteer for this task." 

Surprise sparked in Erestor's mind and he looked up, confused. "My lord?"

"Did you know Lord Glorfindel?" He asked. Erestor averted his eyes habitually, but his expression told all. The King nodded. "He asked after you."

Oh?

Erestor's head shot up again, eyes wide in surprise, heart beating wildly in his chest. 

"He did?"

"He did. Lord Círdan said he demanded to know your whereabouts almost immediately upon his arrival," The King hummed, attempting, and failing, to hide a smile. "Did you know one another well?" 

Erestor flushed and took a deep breath, his mind racing.

So then it was true. If he had asked after Erestor specifically, he could be no other than who he claimed to be. His Laurefindil had truly returned. 

Erestor's knees buckled, hand shooting out to steady himself on the desk, cheeks flushing further in embarrassment at his quite obvious reaction. 

"He... he was my bonded mate," he said quietly, the words leaving him in a rush of breath, fear of the unknown escaping his body with the exhale. To finally say it after so long... Erestor could not be sure if he felt relieved or wrought out, and he did not dare look for Gil-Galad's reaction. 

"I understand-" The High King sighed after a moment, stepping forward. "-why you may desire to go alone, but my decision is final, Erestor. Elrond was right." Erestor looked up slowly, meeting his gaze. "You have been fading for quite some time, Erestor."

The advisor averted his eyes once again. "Elrond does not know what he is talking about." 

"And I do not?" The King raised an eyebrow and Erestor flushed, bowing his head. 

"No- forgive me, my king, that is not what I-" Gil-Galad gave him a kind smile. 

"I know. I also know that it must be difficult to admit so, especially after so many years of keeping it at bay. If it is permitted for me to say so, 2,000 years is a long time to live after the loss of your mate. We elves are not meant to shoulder the burdens of this world alone," He said softly and Erestor had to force back tears when Gil-Galad placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "It is not shameful to admit to missing him." 

Against his will, tears gathered in Erestor's eyes. Overcome suddenly with far too many emotions to deal with at once, he attempted to blink the tears away, clearing his throat and stepping back. "Forgive me, my lord. It is late, I should retire. Thank you for your counsel," He said softly. The High King sighed, but nodded and bowed his head in return. 

"Goodnight, Erestor. I will see you in the morning. Get some rest, you have a long journey ahead." 

Erestor gave him another nod, smile, and a bow before backing out of the room. Wrapping his cloak around himself once more, Erestor took a deep breath, willing the tears away. There would be no reason to grieve anymore. 

Glorfindel had returned. 

 

* * *

 

 

Erestor's sword was heavy at his hip. It had been years since he had worn it, yet it was still sharp and strong as ever, kept in pristine condition by those at the armory. 

The advisor was grateful for his place among Ereinion's council. He loved his job, and was quite good at it, but being an advisor to the king also meant that unless the king went to battle, Erestor stayed by his side. 

His aversion to war was no matter of self-preservation, no. Erestor knew his place as a subject of the king, and would be more than honored to fight for his land. 

But any kind of battle reminded him too much of the day he lost everything, and Erestor did his best to never think about it. 

Glorfindel had looked magnificent at the peak of that rock, hair flying in a mane of gold, sword clashing with the foul beast. Erestor had been unable to look away, not even for the horror swirling in his heart. 

He wished now that he had. 

Nothing had been more painful than watching the balrog tumble off the cliff with his husband in tow.

Nothing.

Nothing, save the severing of their bond. 

First had been the tugging; the pounding; their fëa pulling at one another, desperate to stay bound as one was dragged slowly towards the Halls of Mandos. 

Then came the pain; the ripping; the staggering, mind-numbing agony as their souls finally separated, ends jagged and torn where they had once melded together. Erestor remembered falling to his knees, fingers tearing at his hair, tortured cries escaping his lips. He remembered passing out. 

And then- 

Then came the worst of all. 

Then came the nothing.

There had been no hole, no cavity, no wound in his chest when he had woken. 

There had simply been nothing. 

And as the years wore on and Erestor's mind frayed, he sometimes struggled to remember what it felt like to have anything there at all.

 

* * *

 

Elrond was silent as they rode on the first day, and Erestor did little to oppose it. Neither needed be concerned of directions as they both knew the way, and they were still within the city limits, and thus orcs were of little concern. 

The only concern was Erestor's own mind, swirling and riddled with worrisome questions. 

It had been nearly 2,000 years since he last saw Glorfindel. For what purpose had the Valar sent him back? Would it place a wedge between them? 

He had spent two millennia in the Halls of Mandos, biding his time, reflecting upon his life. What if those reflections had led to a change of heart? What if they had led to a change in Glorfindel himself?

And even if the Noldor had not changed, Erestor had. It had been 2,000 years. Erestor had seen war, death, the rise and fall of kingdoms. He'd been a refuge, a survivor, a widower. He was no longer the young, spoiled, naive elf Glorfindel had loved. 

What if Glorfindel was displeased by how he had changed? What if he no longer loved him? 

Erestor tried to have faith in his lover, but found it to be quite difficult. 

Their fëa had not been bonded for 2,000 years, and Erestor could no longer be sure of what that meant. 

 

* * *

 

 

They rode for 2 days before it began to snow again. The conditions were not bad enough to halt, but it did slow their steeds, and Erestor found himself shivering, pulling his cloak tighter around himself. 

It still did little to stop the wind. 

"Erestor. We have been riding for days. You need rest. We should find shelter and stop for a bit." Elrond's voice seemed far off, distant and unfamiliar as he pulled his horse up beside Erestor's. The counselor ignored him; they could ride for a few days more, then rest. The less they rested, the quicker they would arrive. 

Elrond disagreed. "Erestor. Stop pushing yourself. It is cold and snowing and you are not well. There is a mountain pass ahead with a cave we can use for shelter." 

"I am fine. We will continue-" Erestor retorted, but Elrond huffed and pulled on the reigns of his horse, stopping them where they were. 

"Erestor. If you will not stop for yourself, at least do so for your steed. He needs rest. I need rest. Lord Glorfindel is not going anywhere," The herald hissed. 

Erestor's hands tightened on the reins in frustration. Something in his chest buzzed and rattled, and his horse shifted beneath him, sensing his agitation. 

But Elrond gave him no time to protest. With a stern look in Erestor's direction, Elrond turned and steered his horse north. "Come on." He clicked his tongue and Erestor glared at the peredhel's back as his own mount followed. 

The counselor tried to ignore that Elrond was right. He was freezing and tired and their horses needed a break.

But if there was anything he remembered about his golden warrior, it was his terrible impatience. 

 

* * *

  

_"Erestor."_

_Sigh._

_"Erestor. Erestor. Eres. Tor. Erestor. My love. My dear heart. My one and only." Glorfindel's tongue curled around the nicknames in the most sinful of ways, and Erestor dug his thumb into the spine of his book to keep from shivering._

_"I am working."_

_"You are shelving books. Surely you may take a moment to say hello to me?"_

_Erestor sighed and placed the book on the shelf before turning to the blonde warrior, an amused smile on his lips. "Hello," he hummed, then turned back to his books, and pretended not to melt inside at the dejected pout on Glorfindel's face._

_"Erestor. It has been hours since I have seen you last. Surely you can take a moment's rest," he simpered, arms slithering around Erestor's waist._

_"I cannot. I was stuck in patrol all morning, and I promised Aithpen that I would have these books shelved by morning." If Erestor leaned back into Glorfindel's chest per habit, he would never admit so._

_"But I have missed you." The words were soft and purred against his ear, and Erestor had to suppress another shiver. He flushed a bit and tried to ignore his giddy heart as he gently pried the arms from his waist and reached for another book._

_"Just give me another hour and I will be done. Then you may whisk me away wherever you wish," He promised._

_"Just an hour? And then I can whisk you away? **Anywhere** I like?" Glorfindel licked his bottom lip, slowly and purposefully, and Erestor felt his cheeks color. _

_"Do not make it dirty!" He hissed, glaring at his lover. "We are in a public place!"_

_"Dirty?" Glorfindel grinned and raised one eyebrow mockingly. "My my, Erestor, get your mind out of the gutter!" He teased and Erestor flushed further, smacking the blonde's shoulder in indignation._

_"Stop distracting me, or you will not be whisking me away anywh-ERE! Glorfindel!" Erestor shrieked, then quickly lowered his voice as Glorfindel grabbed him around the waist and tugged him behind a shelf, shielded from view of the librarian's desk. Erestor struggled against the Noldor's strong arms, though it was merely an attempt to save some dignity, and hardly a real attempt to escape. He did not really want to pull away, and that was well known by both parties. "The books will not shelve themselves!"_

_"The **books** are not going anywhere!" Glorfindel growled playfully, pushing Erestor up against the shelf and pressing his body against his, caging him in. " **I,** on the other hand, am  **terribly** **impatient**." Erestor placed his hands on Glorfindel's chest, only because he had no where else to place them, and not at all because he loved the feeling of that smooth, firm muscle beneath his fingers. _

_"You are incorrigible." Erestor tried to scold Glorfindel, but his body was already betraying him, head tipping forward to meet Glorfindel's lips with his own._

_"Only for you, my love," The blonde murmured smugly against his mouth, sliding a hand down to Erestor's hip to hold him in place, and Erestor could do nothing but smile wide, bursting with joy and affection, and kiss back._

_Aithpen found the books, still unshelved, three hours later. Suffice to say, Glorfindel was henceforth banned from the library during Erestor's work hours._

_It had been worth it._

 

* * *

 

It was not until they had settled in the cave and Elrond had started a fire that Erestor realized just how cold he actually was. His fingers were frozen and numb and he was shivering so violently, he was sure Elrond could hear the clacking of his teeth from across the cave. At the sound, the half-elf spared him a glance and sighed, then walked over and wrapped his cloak around Erestor. "You ridiculous elf," he huffed under his breath, but Erestor could only glare, too cold to retort. 

When the fire was well stoked, Elrond finally sat beside him, taking some dried meat and bread from his bag and giving Erestor half. The advisor took it, albeit a little reluctantly, flushing when his stomach rumbled at the taste of the first bite. The two elves sat and ate side by side for some time until the day's light began to fade and Elrond had to tame the fire, lest their light be seen by some foul creature in the night. 

"I won't pretend to understand, Erestor," Elrond began, voice low and hard once he had finished tending to the fire. "-why you were, and continue to be, so bent on this mission. But you must be careful. It matters not that I am here if you chose to ignore my counsel and wear yourself down." 

Erestor kept his eyes trained on the low flames. 

"And I won't apologize for thinking you not fit for this journey. Ereinion may believe you to be well, but as a healer and a friend, I will not sit by and pretend that you are fine." 

"Ereinion knows I am not well," Erestor murmured after a moment. "As do I." The words were thick and difficult to push out. Elrond's brow raised in confusion. 

"Why then, do you insist on pushing yourself so?" 

Erestor sighed and wrapped his cloak tighter around himself. 

"It is not something I particularly wish to speak of," he admitted softly. "But, I suppose you will discover it eventually. Whether it is on this trip or from Ereinion." 

"He would never reveal something said in confidence-" Elrond retorted but Erestor cut him off with a snort, shooting him a look of amusement. 

"Do not try and defend his honor. I know there are no secrets between you two, and I should hope as much. Lying to your king is an offense punishable by execution, but I might imagine lying to your lover would heed a consequence far worse." 

The comment caught Elrond off guard. His cheeks colored and his eyes widened, but then he smiled. "I missed that sharp tongue of yours, Erestor. Fading has not been kind to you." 

Erestor chose to ignore that. He returned his gaze to the fire and picked at a thread on his cloak, pondering over where to begin. The rings against his chest burned. Finally, after a moment more, he swallowed and began. 

"You know more of me than most, Elrond. You know of my past, of my misdeeds, my triumphs, my fears. You know where I came from, who I claim to be, and who I really am. You are my closest friend." He gave the other a soft, brief smile, and pulled the chain out from underneath his tunic, hands closing around the rings before Elrond could see. "But there are things I neglected to tell even you, for so painful they are to utter, I could not speak of them for quite some time." 

"If they pain you so, you need not speak, dear friend. My apologies, I meant not to stir up dark thoughts-" Erestor shook his head. 

"As I said, you will discover the truth eventually. Better to come from me than from the forked tongue of gossip." He took a deep breath. "I was born in Gondolin, as you know, though I speak of it little. I was old enough, when the city fell, to understand the gravity of the loss. As a member of the House of the Fountains, I was not naive to battle. I knew what it meant. But this was the first time I had seen it in such destructive force, and it was the first time I had to watch my home fall." He licked his lips, suddenly finding them uncomfortably dry, and Elrond took it as an invitation to speak. 

"Forgive me, Erestor. You speak of it so scarcely, I had forgotten. I understand now. There is great comfort, I suspect, in reuniting with those from home."

Erestor could only chuckle. "If only it were that simple," he hummed. "Through all the darkness of the years following my escape, that day remains the most painful of my existence. I lost many loved ones that day, both dear friends and kin. As a warrior, I was prepared for it. I knew what was coming, and I steeled myself against it. But there was one I was not prepared to lose." He opened his palm, the gold of the rings glinting in the firelight, and heard a soft gasp from beside him. 

"Oh, Erestor..." 

"Nothing could have prepared me for the separation," He had to clear his throat to continue. "-of our fëa." 

"I did not know. I am sorry," Elrond said softly, and Erestor could not keep the sad smile from his lips. 

"Do not apologize, my friend. You did not know because I told no one. Those that were in Gondolin with me, those that survived, all knew. But the pain was so fresh, too fresh then, and by the time the wounds had closed over, we had scattered among the remaining elf havens." Erestor slipped the rings back beneath his robe and bundled himself back up. There was a moment of silence as Elrond processed the information.

"I had suspected something of the sort," The half-elf admitted after a moment. "Few elves fade without such deep trauma. I am sorry, my friend. I cannot imagine such grief." At this Erestor smiled, chest aching.

"Do not apologize," he repeated softly. "Besides, there is reason no more to grieve. It seems the Valar have looked upon me in mercy and have returned him to me, just in time." 

There was a moment in which Elrond seemed as if he did not understand. Then his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. "You do not mean...?" 

Erestor's cheeks flushed and he gave Elrond a sheepish smile. It was not a look seen often on the advisor and only served to further Elrond's bewilderment. He chuckled in astonishment, then threw his head back and laughed.

"I should have known! Only our cunning advisor could ensnare such a free spirit." 

Erestor's cheeks reddened further and he smiled softly. "Actually, it was he that ensnared I." 

 

* * *

 

 

_"You cannot be serious!"_

_Erestor blushed and held out the letter. "I cannot come to any other conclusion-" he admitted, heart racing. "I saw him place it on my cloak when I was putting away my arms." Húna grabbed the letter eagerly, eyes scanning it over in rapt hunger. As she read her cheeks began to color, and by the time she reached the end of the letter, she was nearly squealing._

_"Erestor!" She clutched the letter to her chest. "Oh 'Restor! I cannot believe it! The great Lord Glorfindel writing a love letter!? To you!?" She squealed again. "What a lucky elf you are!"_

_Erestor hid his face, utterly flustered. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest, stomach fluttering with queasiness, and he let out an unintentional squeak of distress._

_"Húna! What do I do?" He asked weakly. His friend gasped._

_"What do you do!? What in the Valar's name do you mean, what do you do? You go and accept his offer!" She demanded. Erestor's stomach squirmed._

_"I-"_

_"You cannot seriously be considering rejecting him!"_

_Erestor colored further and averted his eyes. She gasped, then grabbed him by the ear, prompting a loud shout of pain from him._

_"Húna-!"_

_"You ridiculous elf! Every single creature this side of the sundering seas has been waiting, hoping, for this elf to lay claim to them and now he makes an offer to you and you're going to reject it!?"_

_Erestor scrambled to get her pointy claws away from his precious ear. "It is not like that!- I do not want- I- ow! Húna, let go!"_

_She pinched the tip of his ear one last time before letting go with a huff. Erestor winced, reaching up to rub at it mourningly with a pout. "So what is it?" She demanded, crossing her arms over her chest. "Surely you think he is a good suitor?"_

_Erestor blushed. "Of course he is! He's regal and handsome and strong and kind and-and beautiful and I do not doubt his ability to care for me-" Erestor admitted, a little breathlessly (though he would deny it should anyone point it out)._

_"But?" She raised an eyebrow, lips turning up in a smirk._

_"I-I-" He sighed in frustration at how flustered he was feeling, looking at the floor and admitted reluctantly, "-I just want to marry for love. I do not wish to simply hand myself off to the first lord that thinks I am pretty."_

_"Oh but you are so pretty, Erestor!" She crowed playfully and Erestor flushed further, sending her a flustered glare._

_"That is not what I-"_

_"I know," she cooed, taking his hands with a smile, this one much more gentle than the previous. "You are a romantic, Erestor. It is sweet, and admirable." She giggled when Erestor pouted further. "So you really are going to reject him? Lord Glorfindel of the Golden Flower, the most handsome lord to ever have walked Ennor, asks you for your hand in marriage and you are going to reject it because you want to marry for love!"_

_"Stop making fun of me!" Erestor gently shoved her hands away, taking the letter and stuffing it in the pocket of his robes. "Yes, I want to fall in love! Is that really so much to ask for? And if that means I must reject him, then so be it!" He huffed and pulled away, walking out of the hall. He was supposed to have met his mother in the gardens for lunch, and he would not allow Húna and her silly questions to make him any later than he already was._

_She did not give up. The elleth giggled and followed after him, bubbly smile wide in contrast to Erestor's gloomy pout. "Oh, I am sorry, 'Restor! You are just so cute when flustered! And you must admit, this is not something to be seen every day! Forgive me for getting excited!"_

_"I'm going to be late to lunch with my mother. Please-" He paused and turned to face her. "Please do not speak of this with anyone else. If I am going to reject him, I want to tell him myself."_

_His plea seemed to sober her up a bit and she nodded steadfastly. "Of course, Erestor." Then she winked and smiled slyly, unable to remain serious for long. "No one will know that you are a hopeless, ridiculous romantic!"_

_He rolled his eyes, but accepted her promise with a grateful smile. "Thank you. I will be taking my leave now, do try to get some of that work done for Cilloine. I do not even work for him and he still will not stop nagging me about the papers you have yet to finish," he hummed as he turned and started back down the stairs._

_"The work will be finished when it wishes to be so. You cannot rush an artist, Erestor," She tsked, and Erestor had to hold back another chuckle. He raised his hand in another wave and made to leave, but when he reached the bottom of the stairs, she called him again._

_"Erestor! Erestor!"_

_He sighed, turning to look up at her. "What is it?"_

_The she-elf leaned over the balcony railing, arms crossed and smile wide on her lips. "So just to be clear!" Erestor winced at how loud her voice was, but that was simply Húna, through and through. "Just to be clear, you wish to be wooed!"_

_Erestor huffed in irritation as a blush rose on his cheeks once more. He hesitated for a moment, then turned on his heel and walked away. He would humor her no longer today._

_With a triumphant grin, Húna turned to her gaze to the tall figure that had just stumbled upon the clearing. The blond lord watched Erestor hurry away, eyes wide and starry with love, and Húna gave him another moment to gape, hiding a giggle behind her hand before she called out to him._

_"My lord Glorfindel, whatever are you standing there for!" She winked mischievously at him. "I do believe you have an elf to be wooing!"_

 

* * *

 

 

Elrond took the first watch that night, insisting for Erestor to rest and regain the little strength he had. When Erestor woke to relieve him of his duty, he found the peredhel seated by the mouth of the cave, reading by moonlight. 

"Did Ereinion not tell you to pack light?" he teased, wrapping his robes around him as he strayed from the fire's warmth to sit beside the herald. Elrond gave him a small smile in greeting, rolling up the scroll he had been reading.

"I had brought some scrolls on Gondolin in the hopes of discovering something that might aid us in helping our guest adjust to the new world. Perhaps something to give him a little familiarity." Erestor raised in eyebrow, and Elrond rolled his eyes in return. "I suppose however, with you here, that may not be necessary." Erestor chuckled.

"That is very thoughtful of you, my friend. I expected nothing less of you," he mused. "You should get some rest." 

Elrond hesitated for a moment, eyes searching Erestor's face for any lingering signs of exhaustion, but then sighed and stood, settling back over by the fire. Erestor turned to watch out the mouth of the cave, eyes scanning the darkness. They had not strayed far from Forlond's borders yet, but still enemies lurked, and each step further from the city posed new danger. 

"Erestor." Elrond's voice, soft but sudden, startled him. The raven-haired elf strayed a quick look back at his companion. "Forgive me for asking, but why is there no mention of you? In any of the writing we have on Gondolin, on the lord Glorfindel, even that of Ecthelion, your lord, why is there no mention of you as Glorfindel's mate?" 

Erestor had not been expecting the question and felt his heart sink in his chest. He failed in keeping a sad smile from his lips yet found the answer came easily to him. "To put it simply, my friend, our love was nothing special. It was pure and it was true, and I believe now that he has returned to me that the Valar looked favorably upon our joining, but it was nothing worthy of fables. It was not like that of Beren and Lúthien, nor Celeborn and Galadriel, nor Tuor and Idril, or even Eärendil and Elwig," he mused and Elrond smiled a bit at the names. "I am sure there was a family tree somewhere that depicted our marriage, but nothing that survived the fall." 

Elrond's smile fell. "And afterwards? Surely you were not the only elf to survive that knew of your bond?" The half-elf prodded gently.

"Grief and hero-worship are nasty poisons, my friend. In the pain of losing him, I withdrew to the shadows. And surely, in recounting the history of the Mighty Gondolin, there are more important, more story-worthy aspects of the Great Lord Laurefindil's life to write of than his sickly widowed husband, are there not?" There was no bitterness in his tone when he spoke the words, but he supposed no one would blame him if there had been. He glanced back once more, catching the sadness written on Elrond’s face. 

"I am sorry my friend. I cannot imagine-" 

"I do not expect you to, Elrond." When he turned back to look over the land, there was an aching pull in his chest and a lump in his throat. "You really must rest. We have quite a ways to go tomorrow." 

There was the rustling of Elrond settling down to sleep before it was quiet. Erestor's ears twitched as he listened carefully for any noise above the crackling of the fire and the whistling of the wind. Then,

"Erestor?" 

"Hmm?" 

There was the rustling of fabric as Elrond sat up. 

"What was he like?" 

Erestor's voice got halted in his throat, caught off guard by the question again. He closed his mouth, took a deep breath, and surprisingly, found himself smiling. 

"He was charming, and elegant, and strong, and kind of dumb sometimes. Not at all like the scriptures say. He was handsome though, the scriptures did not lie about that. Beautiful, in a way only the Eldar could ever be," Erestor hid a smile behind the sleeve of his cloak. "He was doting, and a little much sometimes, but he was also kind and generous, and terribly soft." 

Elrond hummed softly and Erestor could hear the smile on his lips. 

"He was-" A warmth built up in his chest and Erestor had to take a deep breath to keep it from escaping. "He  _is_ the love of my life." 

 

* * *

 

_It began subtly, three summers later._

_Erestor, after stuttering out an apology to the golden lord on the morning after receiving the proposal, had nearly forgotten about the whole thing. To save himself the embarrassment and self-loathing, he pushed it so deeply into the recesses of his own mind that when he began receiving courting gifts from an anonymous suitor, he did not suspect anyone, nor did he connect the dots._

_A flower, left on his desk when he stepped out for a breath of fresh air. A letter, slipped beneath his door. His favorite wine, delivered to his room after a particularly grueling training session._

_The gestures were sweet. They made Erestor's heart flutter and his cheeks flush and his stomach move in ways that surely stomachs were not designed to move._

_Contrary to popular belief, young Erestor was not a difficult elf to woo. Had his suitor come and ask for his company then, it would have been difficult for him to resist._

_But no suitor revealed themselves, and the gestures continued._

_Next came the breakfast, his favorite fruits, pastries, meats, left outside his room every Saturday morning. The bouquet of baby's breath, bellflowers, and sunflowers, delivered by a grinning Húna (Erestor had entered the flower shop with the intention of discovering what the flowers meant, a determined furrow on his brow, and had left a stuttering, blushing mess)._

_The white fur cloak, folded neatly on his bed with a love poem, discovered by Erestor just when it had begun to get cold outside and he had found his old cloak to be too thin and worn to keep him warm. Erestor wore the white furs proudly, albeit with a bright blush and a fluttering heart, hoping his suitor would reveal themselves to him soon, but it was to no avail._

_For two moon cycles, Erestor continued to receive gifts of courtship, but still no suitor showed face._

_It was at dinner on Yuletide, when the minstrel began to sing of Erestor's "beautiful raven hair" in front of the whole hall that the young elf snapped. Cheeks bright red, chest filled with a swirling, contradicting mess of giddy delight and utter frustration, Erestor sat through the ballad with his face buried his hands and ear tips burning bright red. He could feel eyes on him, cooes from mothers, giggles from young couples, whispers of curiosity, and when the minstrel finished he was on his feet, hurrying out of the hall._

_He found Húna in the gardens, telling a story to a group of giggling elflings by the fountain. The water sparkled in the moonlight and the moonlocke flowers glowed in the darkness, but Erestor paid them no mind._

_"Húna!"_

_The she-elf paused in surprise, lips opened in an "oh" before she saw who it was and smiled wide._

_"Why, Erestor! What brings you out to the lovely gardens tonight? Should you not be in the great hall, enjoying the music?" She smirked at him knowingly, and the elflings around her giggled. Erestor flushed further, pulling the white cloak tighter around himself in embarrassment._

_"You know who it is, do you not?" He accused and she laughed._

_"I am surprised you have not figured it out yet."_

_Erestor's brow furrowed. Why would Húna believe he knew? None of the gifts had hints of his suitor's identity. They were all tailored specifically to his desires and wishes, so how was he to guess who might want his hand unless they had expressed interest in him once before and-_

_**Oh.** _

_Erestor's eyes widened and his heart sped up. His hands fumbled with the clasp of his cloak to keep busy._

_"You mean....? But..." He blushed bright red as Húna started to giggle. "He could not have... ho-how did he know?" Erestor stuttered and Húna's little elflings joined her in her tittering._

_Then her gaze flickered to look at something behind him and her smile widened and Erestor felt himself freeze up, ears flushing further. His heart jumped into his throat._

_"Ask him yourself."_

_Erestor swallowed thickly. Slowly, he turned, heart beating rapidly against his adam's apple, and there in front of him, was Laurefindil._

_He looked glorious; broad and tall and strong with golden, long hair. It took Erestor's breath away, how he managed to look so big and firm, yet still fair and elegant, both fearless warrior and caring lord._

_Erestor swooned._

_"M-my lord, good evening," he stuttered out, dipping into a bow. His heart stuttered in unison with his voice when the sound of the lord's soft chuckle reached his reddened ears._

_"Good evening, Master Erestor. I was just looking for you. If it is not too forward to ask, would you fancy a walk in the garden with me?"_

_Erestor looked up in time to watch him send a playful wink to the elflings, prompting another fit of sweet giggles, and Erestor's frantic heart warmed, and calmed, just a bit._

_He felt a shy smile creep upon his lips as he straightened from the bow and with a deep, shaky breath, Erestor nodded._

_Glorfindel smiled wider. He held out his arm, eyes sparkling and kind and **reverent**  as he gazed at Erestor. It took the young elf's breath away, and he could not help the brightening of his own smile as he slipped his arm in Glorfindel's. _

_"Shall we?"_

 

* * *

 

Snow piled high at the feet of Ered Luin. 

Elrond and Erestor rode swiftly, wary of the cold and the time nipping at their heels. The aching in Erestor's chest had faded, but with it went the warmth that had been cultivating in his heart since that night in the cave. Now he was just cold. 

Cold and tired.

They skirted the mountains, a feat that took an extra day, for the winds grew stronger with each passing hour and they did not want to risk facing trouble on the pass. But it did little to stop the cold from infecting their spirits. 

By the second day at the foot of the mountains, Erestor had begun to shiver again and he began to once again feel as though ice had replaced the bones beneath his skin. His strength began to waver, then his clearness, then his consciousness.

"Erestor!" 

Elrond's hand on his shoulder kept him upright in his saddle. Erestor's eyes fluttered shut, breath shallow. "Erestor. You must keep your strength-" Elrond's voice was urgent, yet far away. "I understand that you are tired, but we cannot stop here. It is too dangerous!" The wind whistled loudly in Erestor's ears and he forced his eyes open again. 

He braced his hands on his steed's neck, hair hot against his freezing hands. His head nodded against his will once more. 

"S.. M.. cold-" he breathed, taking another deep, cold breath. 

"I know, my friend. Just a little longer. Do not fall to the darkness yet-" Elrond's hand was solid on his shoulder. Erestor breathed it in and gripped his reigns tighter. 

"Forgive me," he forced out, every breath and aching difficulty, and pushed on. 

 

* * *

 

 

"Mithlond is not far," Elrond murmured on the fifth day. Their cloaks were laid out on the cave floor, wet from the snow and drying by the fire's flames. Erestor huddled closer to the fire, willing the heat back into his bones, and let Elrond speak, too tired to respond. "If we ride swiftly tomorrow, we can make it by nightfall. We have been lucky to be yet to encounter orcs thus far, but that is a chance I would not take by idling much longer." He handed Erestor another bit of bread. "When we reach Mithlond, might we consider waiting for you to regain your strength before we return to Forlond?" 

Erestor nodded in agreement, feeling a bit of strength return to his bones with each bite of bread, and sighed in relief. 

"Erestor," Elrond said again after a moment. "I worry about you." 

"I know," he hummed. "You have made that quite clear." 

"I have spent the last three days watching you get worse. I had thought you might get better, knowing that he is back, yet you have continued to fade."

Erestor paused. "What are you saying?" Erestor met his gaze, eyes challenging, and Elrond let out a weary sigh. 

"I just wonder, if the Lord Glorfindel has truly returned, why are you still fading?" 

The words struck cold at Erestor's heart. 

"You suggest that Lord Círdan is mistaken."

"I suggest nothing," Elrond placated. "I merely ponder." 

Erestor looked away, eyes catching on the flames. He swallowed thickly. 

"I know it is him. Logically, at least. When Lord Círdan wrote to Ereinion, he wrote that the passenger had asked for my specifically upon his arrival. That is part of why Ereinion let me go. It can be no one else but Glorfindel. But..." 

"But?"

"But it is difficult to believe in my heart," he admitted. "He has been gone for so long, and though a day does not pass that I do not desire for him to return to me, the actual notion of his rebirth seems rather... unbelievable. Seeing is believing, is it not? I think that is why I continue to fade, despite the knowledge that he has returned to me."

The crackling of the fire filled the space once more. Then Elrond spoke.

"If seeing is believing, then we shall travel with haste. Get some sleep, Erestor. We leave at dawn."

 

* * *

 

 

It was on the eve of the sixth day that Erestor spotted the gates of Mithlond and was filled with a sudden tugging, beating, rushing energy.

His love was behind those gates. Glorfindel was there, waiting for him.

The hit was so sudden it momentarily blinded him before it was filling him with a tingling warmth and a liveliness he had not felt in 2,000 years. He took a deep, shuddering breath and blinked to clear his vision. 

"Erestor?" 

Erestor grabbed the reigns of his horse and took off before Elrond could say another word. 

The snow had stopped that morning but it would not have made a difference anyhow. Erestor was warm and bright, a beacon of light as he rode toward the city gates, cloak and dark hair flowing behind him in the wind.

The pounding of hooves told him that Elrond was quickly following, but he paid it no mind. When the gates came into view he slowed a bit, if only out of courtesy, as he rode through the city, hooves sharp against the stone path. Though he was careful to avoid citizens walking through the city square, he urged his mount forward nonetheless, eagerness overtaking propriety. 

"Erestor!" He heard Elrond's exasperated shout from behind him, but ignored it. 

It was at the pavilion of the King's halls that he finally slowed to a stop, head bowed in greeting to the guards stationed there.

"Welcome, Master Erestor," Thalanil, a steward of the hall, called as he stepped forward to help Erestor down from his horse. The advisor handed the reins to him with an absent-minded word of thanks, eyes sweeping over the pavilion and surrounding gardens eagerly. 

"They are in a meeting, Master Erestor," Thalanil said after a moment, an amused smile present on his lips. "If you would wait here, I will return with them shortly."

Erestor could not keep himself from blushing. Evidently, he was not as subtle has he hoped. 

"Thank you, Thalanil." He gave the steward another bow, smiling sheepishly as the other handed off his horse to the stable boy. Thalanil simply smiled and winked before hurrying off through the doors of the hall, and Erestor briefly wondered if he, and perhaps so many others, now knew of the nature of his and Glorfindel's relationship. 

Had the blonde been discreet as Erestor been all these years? Had he been surprised to arrive at Mithlond's shores and find that the world still viewed him as a bachelor? Had he been hurt to know his husband had not claimed his love, even in death? 

A spark of anxiety rose in his chest.

"You stubborn elf, you shall be the death of me!" Called Elrond as he rode into the square a moment later, looking irritated but amused nonetheless. One of the guards helped him down and handed his horse off to the stable boy. Elrond exchanged a few words with him, then made his way to Erestor's side and gently pinched his arm.

"Do not run off like that again. Ereinion instructed me to look after you, and he shall have my head if I do not do so." 

Erestor ignored him. They both knew Ereinion loved Elrond's head far too much to make good on his threats, and even if that had not been the case, Erestor was too busy trying to breathe to worry about the state of Elrond's life. 

"Forgive me- I-" He took another deep breath and closed his eyes, fighting against the quickly rising anxiety. 

"Erestor," his friend's voice took on a tone of concern, and he felt Elrond's hands on his shoulders, gently squeezing. "Breathe." 

"What if he is upset? I abandoned him-" 

"Hush, Erestor. You did nothing of the sorts. If he is truly as gracious as you have told me, then I am sure he will understand." 

"But-"

Elrond shook him gently. " _Áni cene.”_ Erestor followed his instructions, eyes wide with unshed tears of excitement and hope and fear. "Áva sorya. He is here. You need not worry any longer," He whispered, eyes warm, and Erestor felt his fear leave him in his next exhale. 

"Thank you," he breathed softly, shoulders relaxing beneath Elrond's hands. 

Elrond did not respond. There was the sudden sound of feet on marble behind them, and his gaze shifted to look over Erestor's shoulder. Erestor made to move, to turn and see who it was, but found himself frozen, eyes fixed on Elrond's face. 

"Well..." Elrond murmured, one eyebrow raised and a small smile on his lips. He dropped his hands from Erestor's shoulders. "You did not lie. He is magnificent." 

Erestor could not move. There was a tugging rising in his chest once again, heavy against his breast and he had to shut his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply through his nose to stifle the fear crawling up his throat. 

"Elrond, I cannot do this," he whispered, but the peredhel shushed him. 

"Yes you can." Erestor opened his mouth to protest, panic creeping up his throat, but Elrond did not let him. "Turn around, Erestor. Turn and face him." 

Erestor's feet moved without his permission.

Thalanil was first, descending down the stairs with that smirk still on his lips. Behind him were two figures, Lord Círdan and a tall, broad elf with pale hair. Círdan looked tired, weary from watching over Mithlond in the king's absence, yet ever wise and powerful nonetheless. Still, it was not him that caught Erestor's gaze.

Valar, he was just as glorious as Erestor remembered. 

Elrond dropped to a bow beside him but Erestor found himself rooted in his stop, suddenly overwhelmed.

It was really him.

He wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry, to scream, to run, jump, faint, throw up, perhaps-

"Erestor!" Elrond whispered sharply, breaking him out of his stupor, and he was quick to follow into a short bow. It was a sloppy one, his heart rattling in his chest and his hands clenched into fists of anxiety at his side but it was the best he could do. 

"Master Erestor, Elrond, welcome home," Lord Círdan said, bowing his head in return and the two travelers straightened. "My deepest gratitudes to you for heeding my call, and so swiftly." 

"It was no trouble, My Lord," Elrond returned and Erestor forced himself to nod in agreement. His joints felt stiff, nerves fluttering beneath his skin, and he had to take one last deep breath before he could force himself to look up. 

Erestor’s breath left his body in a soft gasp and he missed Lord Círdan’s next words. Their eyes met and Erestor missed Lord Círdan’s next words, gaze sweeping over a familiar nose, jaw, brow and cheeks. Lips that had once kissed soft promises against his forehead curled into a soft smile and blue eyes sparkled in the evening sun and before he could stop himself, Erestor was lurching forward, stopping just before the other elf, cheeks flushed and breath short, and then the blonde took a step towards him and the square went silent. 

Valar, he had not changed. Kind, gentle blue eyes, a curved nose and strong jaw, he was every bit the handsome warrior Erestor remembered him to be.

When Erestor was done studying his face, he returned his gaze to the other's eyes, flushing when he realized the same studying had been done to him. There was a thick tension in the air, but then Glorfindel finally murmured his name, a soft, "Erestor-"

-and Erestor broke.

A strangled, hiccuped sort of sob escaped his lips and all he could think to do was reach a hand out and feel for his lover's pulse, still hesitant to believe what he saw before him. He heard a soft chuckle from the warrior and tears began to well up in his eyes at the sound. 

But-

Was he allowed to touch? What if he did, only to discover that none of this was real?

Erestor hesitated, hand outstretched and shaking, hovering over the breast of Glorfindel's tunic. 

But then Glorfindel reached out, taking Erestor's hand in his own and pressing it to his heart. His chest was firm, his touch warm and soft and oh-so-alive, and oh-

There it was. 

Glorfindel's heartbeat was steady against Erestor's palm.  

Tears spilled down Erestor's cheeks as he closed his eyes against them. Relief, joy, grief, gratitude, and a plethora of other emotions he had not the mind to name rose in his chest, and it was all he could do to not fall to his knees before his love.

Instead, he let out an awful, embarrassing, garbled sob and covered his face with his free hand.

"Oh my love," came Glorfindel's voice, soft with amusement and longing and sadness, and Erestor could only cry more.

He felt his ears turning red in embarrassment but he could not stop. It was all too much. He had waited so many years for this day and now that it was here, he simply could not bear it.

He felt Glorfindel shift against his touch, reaching up to gently remove Erestor's hand from his face before tugging him closer, and Erestor let himself fall into Glorfindel, another sob escaping his lips as strong arms wrapped around him, not so tight that he could not pull away if he wished, but tight enough to reassure him, to say, "I am here, finally, and I am not leaving again." 

He struggled to breathe past another sob, feeling fingers brush his hair away from his ear, then caress his cheek. "Shhh, my dear Erestor," Glorfindel breathed and Erestor's heart seized in his chest once more.

He even sounded the same, voice deep and full and sweet.

There was another stroke to his cheek and another soft hush, and Erestor took a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. The warmth in his chest began to return, bit by bit, vibrating and pulsing beneath his ribcage, and when a palm cupped his cheek and wiped away a stray tear, Erestor finally forced himself to open his eyes.

Blue eyes met his gaze, soft and sparkling, and he blinked away tears once more.  

"My love-" he choked out, reaching up to shakily brush Glorfindel's jaw with his fingers. The Noldor's skin was soft and warm, and Erestor felt the tremor in his hand worsen. "Please tell me I am not dreaming-" 

Glorfindel gave another soft chuckle before he was leaning close, pressing their foreheads together in a tender nuzzle. Erestor reveled in the feeling, inhaling Glorfindel's scent deeply. Oh, how he had missed that as well. 

"Oh, my dear Erestor, I am sorry for the pain I have caused you," he whispered softly, brushing their noses together, and Erestor's heart ached. Words danced on the tip of his tongue but there were far too many to chose from and Erestor found he could not decide which to utter. Instead he pressed closer, fighting back another wave of tears and basking in the gentle, reverent touches from his love.

"You did not answer my question," he breathed after a moment, heart fluttering at the soft laugh it prompted from Glorfindel. 

"This is no dream, my love," The blonde promised, noses brushing again. "I am here." 

Tears blurred Erestor's sight once more and he pressed closer to the other, desperate to take in his warmth, his scent, his touch, a soft sigh of relief leaving his lungs. His next inhale was deep and shuddering, and Erestor could not help but feel as though this was the first real breath he had taken in 2,000 years. 

“You made me wait,” he whispered, eyes fluttering up to look at Glorfindel, humor mixing with the joy and relief in his gaze. The blonde chuckled. 

“You’ve always been the more patient one between us,” the blonde mused, eyes soft and reverent and Erestor could not have stopped himself if he tried. Sliding his hands up to Glorfindel's neck, another happy sob escaped his smiling lips, and then he was leaning in and finally pressing their mouths together. Glorfindel made a soft sound of surprise against Erestor's lips, but then wasted no time in scooping him up and kissing back deeply.

There were some gasps, and some laughs, and some cheers from the crowd that had been gathering, but neither of them paid the spectators any mind. 

The kiss was salty and wet from Erestor's tears but it was also gentle and perfect and  _real,_ and really, that was all Erestor could ask for. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Quenyan:  
> Áni cene - Look at me  
> Áva sorya - Do not be afraid
> 
> For those of you that wish to know, here are the meanings of the flowers Glorfindel gifted Erestor.  
> Baby's Breath: Innocence, purity of heart  
> Bellflowers: Unwavering love  
> Sunflowers: Pure thoughts, adoration, loyalty
> 
> I may write a sequel to this, who knows


End file.
